Devon is a high school student on the verge of doing something drastic to the kids who have been tormenting him. He's speaking to Anna, a random encounter in the schoolyard and perhaps the last chance to stave off disaster. Note: the bracketed word may replace the one preceding it, depending on your needs.
(Warning: Using this monologue without permission is illegal, as is reproducing it on a website or in print in any way.)
Everyone kisses Ray Daniels' first team-all-star-all-whatever ass [butt]. And they worship Sophie Watson and her $2590 Neiman Marcus prom dress that's worth more than all my clothes put together, and Trevor Johnson, kneel before Trevor 'cause it's the easiest way to chug his parents' booze. What's their memorial gonna say? Thanks for tripping that kid you didn't even know, and for spitting in his lunch, and for hacking his Instagram [or social media network of the moment] and posting all those pictures you took in the locker room. Again. Thanks for being my personal heroes on a daily basis for the last three craptastic years. But seriously, I am sincerely grateful that every morning, like the pack of hyenas you are, you chase the rest of us out of the cafeteria before school and drink your lattes and laugh—and you never leave until two minutes after the first bell.